


Moist

by Adiaphory



Series: But why [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Barely any Sam/Gabriel though, Blow Jobs, Bonding, Bottom Castiel/Top Dean Winchester, Bottom Sam/Top Gabriel, Castiel is confused, Destiel - Freeform, Double Entendre, First Time, Food Kink, Innuendo, M/M, No Spoilers, Porn, Porn Without Plot, Rimming, Smut, Weird Shit, mentioned Wincest, self-censored but still pretty fucked up, weird Destiel, weird sex euphemisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-04
Updated: 2015-12-04
Packaged: 2018-05-04 20:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5346842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adiaphory/pseuds/Adiaphory
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Dean wanted was some help when his car breaks down. All Castiel wants is some of that ass.</p><p>[Requested by a friend who wanted Destiel and no wendigos]</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moist

**Author's Note:**

> This is a weird one with very minimal Sam/Gabriel.
> 
> The opening line is borrowed from my friend's Twilight parody book, I think it's called "Nightlight" or something like that.

The hot Phoenix sun glared down on the car windowsill where Dean’s bare, pallid arm dangled shamelessly. He grunted and turned the key in the ignition with futility, knowing it would do nothing with an empty tank of gas.

In the distance he could see a vulture circling the sky, the image skewed by the wavy heat waves of the deserted road he was stuck on. He would normally get out and start walking back toward a gas station he passed before breaking down, but he’d be damned if he left his baby alone to be vandalized.

He was desperate, and everyone knew the last thing a desperate man did was pray. Dean groaned and swiped the sweat from his forehead before he tilted his head back to stare at the Impala’s ceiling.

“Cas,” he called out, voice ready to crack with thirst. “Get your feathery ass down here and help me out.”

Nothing happened.

“Cas? Cas, I swear to god, if you don’t get here right now—”

In an instant the angel was seated beside him, startling the human. “Yes, Dean?”

“Damn it, Cas,” Dean grunted. “Stop that!”

“But you called me.”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“What is it that you need so badly?”

A few angry and unreasonably salty comments later, Castiel was transporting Dean just a minute’s walk from the closest gas station. With a portable red tank in hand, they returned to the Impala. They gassed it up and Castiel offered to sit with Dean as he drove back to the motel. The AC was broken and the windows were acting up again from one of the car’s many accidents, leaving the men trapped in a sickeningly hot car.

The heat didn’t bother the angel much since it took quite a high heat to get him to break a sweat, but he could see how red Dean’s skin became and how the blonde’s musk filled the air. Dean’s shirt was soaking through with his sweat and his hair was plastered to his forehead.

“You’re wet,” Castiel observed.

Dean jerked the wheel and nearly collided into a bouler beside the road. “I’m _what_?”

“You’re very much moist,” the angel replied. “Are you hot?”

A heat crept into Dean’s cheeks. “Just shut up until we get to the motel, alright, Cas? Can you do that?”

The rest of the ride went uncomfortably for the heat-stricken and embarrassed Dean. Castiel was unaffected and didn’t even bother to remove his perfectly-dry trench coat.

The peace-less silence couldn’t continue, which Dean should have expected. As soon as they passed the dirty doors of the Winchesters’ motel room, Castiel immediately reached out to feel the heat of Dean’s bicep. His intention was to see how hot Dean had become in their hour in the sun. Instead, he was distracted by the muscle.

“You’re hard.”

Dean sputtered.

“Very hard indeed.”

Dean rushed away from the blunt man and went into the bathroom for water and some goddamn privacy. He wasn’t pleased when Castiel followed him.

“Dean, are you alright? I heard humans suffering from heat stroke may get sick or pass out.”

“Damn it, Cas,” Dean braced himself on the bathroom sink with his head down. “Would you get out of here?!”

The angel nodded and left, leaving Dean to feel guilty for reacting the way he did. He knew it wasn’t Castiel’s fault he was so blunt and didn’t understand social cues. Dean drank a handful of the questionable water from the faucet and turned around, ready to apologize to the other man.

He didn’t expect to open the door and be greeted with a totally naked Castiel standing by the motel bed.

“Welcome, Dean,” he said, arms stretched out.

No words could even begin to form in the hunter’s throat.

“I must apologize for my appearance. I had no time to wax my entire body, but I hear some men prefer their beaches to have some hair.”

 “Beaches… you mean _bitches_?” Dean didn’t know where to laugh or cry. “What the hell is happening, Cas? Why are you… you…” He gestured wildly toward the angel’s naked body.

“Oh, this?” Castiel smiled, looking somewhat creepy, unable to perfect a more seductive look. “Well, I walked in on Sam and some other people a few weeks back…”

* * *

 

**_MOTHERFUCKING FLASHBACK TIME_ **

* * *

 

“Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ ,” Sam was grunting. He was on his back, legs pushed up and held by another man’s shoulders. It was an odd sight for Castiel, to see this moose of a man being pounded into by a man who seemed half his height.          

True love has no limitations, he decided.

The other man was identified as Gabriel, much to Castiel’s confusion. Why would Sam want to have sexual intercourse with an angel, and such a bag-of-dicks one, at that?

“Say my name,” Gabriel commanded, thrusting sporadically

Sam moaned and struggled to catch his breath before calling out, “ _Daddy_!”

The men came loudly and were more than disturbed to see the motel door was open and framing a very curious Castiel. They were mortified, even. They had no idea they had an audience… of course, Sam knew Gabriel didn’t mind. That thick little dick in his ass wasn’t softening up to save his life.

Goddamn it, Gabriel.

“What’s going on?” Castiel asked, not moving from the door. “Why are you two performing sexual intercourse?”

Sam stuttered, not being helped by the man still hovering above him. “It—we—it’s a, uh, bonding thing. We, uh, really trust each other, so, uh…”

Castiel was unfazed. “Ah, I see. A true mark of human-angel relations. May I watch the interaction?”

Gabriel smirked and shouted out, “Go ahead!” Sam wasn’t very happy to have this voyeuristic pervert still deep inside him but fuck it, he’s got nothing better to do, might as well teach Castiel sex.

So the dark-haired angel pulled out a notepad and pen to take overly-detailed notes as his brother absolutely annihilated Sam’s ass.

* * *

 

**_END FLASHBACK MOTHERFUCKER_ **

* * *

 

Dean’s eye twitched.

“Relations may begin now.”

“Absolutely not.”

Castiel frowned and did a four-star imitation of Sam’s puppy face. “Please, Dean, I’ve worked very diligently to learn this. I… understand if you don’t want to because we’re not really friends…” He turned away, sniffling at the idea of their friendship being false.

 _Oh goddamn it_ , Dean thought. “Fine, Cas. Fine. Let’s… do it.” He shuddered.

“Make love.”

“Oh god.”

It didn’t take long for Dean to give in to his totally-canon needs for Castiel’s body. He’d been sexually frustrated since the first time Castiel ever got uncomfortably close to him for no real reason. He was out of his clothes in seconds, a skill he mastered ages ago when he was having meaningless sex with women and those few never-spoken-of times with Sam. Sam had the booty.

Castiel was all too pleased to finally reach such a devoted level of friendship. The two men stood together, naked, and before Dean could make the first move, Castiel whispered something.

“I hear it’s really popular with the kids these days to eat ass, Dean.”

Dean didn’t know what to say.

Castiel smiled warmly before pushing Dean onto his stomach on the bed. “I’m sorry I couldn’t buy you dinner first, as is customary, but I can certainly feed you. With my ejaculate.”

"Damn it, Cas!”

"Don’t worry, Dean,” the angel said, crawling onto the bed as well. “You will surely be screaming my father’s name later tonight.”

“I never want to hear you say that ever again.”

Castiel didn’t know why Dean didn’t want to cry out like Sam always did when he was violently masturbating at night in the motel bathroom, but whatever. He went straight to what the pornos taught him: foreplay. Time to eat ass.

Of course, Castiel didn’t know what eating ass meant.

He took a bite. Dean did not appreciate the teeth marks in his ass cheek. Castiel took the negative reception to mean he was meant to eat something, just not the actual ass. Dean was less pleased when he felt something warm and sticky being rubbed against his ass. He stopped caring when he felt Castiel’s wet, warm tongue sliding over his baby-soft cheeks.

The same unidentified object went deeper, going between and dividing until it rested against his precious B-hole. He couldn’t get a warning grunt out before Castiel was shoving it in. Dean gasped and turned his head to try to see what the fuck was happening.

Castiel smiled at him and said nothing. Dean felt the object and it was… soft. Was it breaking inside of him? The sensation of something melting off of it continued on. He was close to figuring out what was inside him… until he was distracted by Castiel burying his face in his ass.

Then the sound of chewing.

“Cas,” Dean finally found his voice, low and raspy. “Did you stick a candy bar inside me?”

“It’s a Snickers, Dean,” Castiel said, cheeks filled with the melting chocolate.

Both were too preoccupied with their weird little sex antics to hear the door open, or to see Sam standing there with a horrified expression before instantly leaving again. Unlike Dean, Sam didn’t know Castiel was eating a Snickers bar.

The angel didn’t see the problem and bent back down to eat the rest of the candy out, pleased with himself to hear the moans Dean was trying to hide. He felt Dean’s body tensing and thrusting beneath him, dry humping the mattress whenever Castiel’s tongue was licking around inside his man-snatch, getting all the candy back.

Castiel removed his face, certain he got it all out. He had moved to flip Dean on his back and was surprised to see the white mess on the sheets. They were only having sex, why was Dean experiencing an orgasm? Humans were impossible to understand.

Dean refused to make eye-contact, focusing on the wall behind the angel instead. “Damn it, Cas.”

“Drink up, Santy Claws.”

“Wha—” Dean’s mouth was stuffed with Castiel’s thick, veiny noodle. He gagged and his eyes became watery before he could relax himself. He’d like a warning the next time he was expected to give someone a blowy-J, but whatever. Castiel gets a pass this time.

Dean breathed through his nose and swallowed the Richard down his throat until it was uncomfortable. Castiel didn’t understand why he had the greatest urge to move his hips forward into the warm, wet heat of Dean’s mouth.

He was, however, alarmed when Dean did begin gagging and choking. Castiel removed his sin-maker and narrowed his eyes to see the dribble of what must have been sour cream escape Dean’s lips. When did Dean have Mexican food was the real question.

“Now, Dean,” Castiel began, unsure of how to address the next issue. “I understand it requires one of us being inside of the other to make the love. Do the last two interactions count as our love being created?”

Dean turned his head, forgetting why the fuck he was doing this with such an oblivious virgin. “No, Cas. Rimming and blow jobs aren’t the same as sex.”

“Then the other thing Sam and Gabriel did must be the sex.”

“What?”

“Sometime after Gabriel had stopped leaving bruises on your brother’s neck with his mouth, he did some _other_ activities. I think I understand now. Dean, do you happen to own a ‘dildo’ roughly the size of your forearm? Also, some kind of lubrication and a human muzzle?”

Dean’s eyes were as big as the rims of his car. His Sammy better not have been the receiver of whatever the fuck that shit was!

“I’ll take that as a no. What about a blindfold, a whip, and an electrical object with exposed wiring?”

_“I swear to god, Cas.”_

“A condom?”

Some of the long-lost coloring returned to Dean’s face. “Uh, yeah. We got condoms. Just don’t do any more weird shit, okay, Cas?”

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean felt like he should have seen it coming when the condom was placed on Castiel’s own skin flute… while some lube, which came from god-knows-where, was lathered all over Dean’s musical organ. All the way down past his balls.

“Cas, I think you’re confused.”

“No, this is how they do it in the videos.”

Without any preparation, Castiel was lowering himself onto Dean’s slicked up Wooly Willy, stopping when Dean’s musical bells were snug against his stretched metal space station vent opening.

This is it. Castiel the angel was riding Dean. Fucking sick, mate.

“Cas… you gotta move,” Dean told him, teeth clenched. He was straining not to burst his load right then in there in that sweet, sweet glory hole.

When the angel didn’t get the message, Dean just grabbed his hips and forced him up and let his weight take him back down. That’s when Castiel finally understood! He must move up and down to the beat of Taylor Swift’s “Shake It Off!” That’s what sex was! It was riding on genitals to music!

Wow, humans were pretty fucking weird.

Dean kept thrusting in time with Castiel coming down, not even caring if he hit the G-spot. He didn’t care—he fucking deserved some satisfaction that wasn’t veiled in some weird, angel-interpreted bastardization.

Finally, the fucking flood gates opened and Dean made ugly animal noises as he emptied his load into the dumpster above him. He could feel his own crème filling slip out of Castiel’s apparently very loose assmouth as he pulled out and tossed the angel aside.

Castiel didn’t seem to mind being pushed aside so roughly. He smiled and thanked Dean for his time. But, as was tradition, they cuddled in the sweaty, sticky bed.

“Should I take a pregnancy test?” Castiel asked. “I’m not on the pill.”

“Men can’t get pregnant, Cas.”

“That is certainly good to know.”

Dean’s cellphone rang and he begrudgingly reached out, answering it with the intention of hanging up as soon as he could. “What is it, Sam?”

_“Dean! I found us a case! Up in Montana there’s been some sightings of a wen—”_

Dean closed the call. _Not today, Sam_.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a habit of writing really weird sex scenes.


End file.
